Read Online Hummingbird Lake by Emily March - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Emily March
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above her. Around her. Screeching birds. Shrieking monkeys.
Stinking bodies.
Harsh hands.
Brutal men.
The rebels’ truck threaded its way through the jungle on the rutted road. Sage sat wedged between two dirty , sweaty men in the cab. The driver never looked her way. The other man never stopped leering .
The sound of the jungle closed in on her—pants, snorts, caws, chatters, cackles, and roars. Her mouth was dry. Her heart pounded. She’d never been so frightened in her life. A brutal hand grabbed at her breast. Sage closed her eyes and prayed .
The driver barked an order too fast for her to follow with her limited command of the language, but after giving her one more squeeze, the hand released her. She released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding .
They traveled for an hour, then two. She needed to pee. Between the stink and the fear, she feared she might vomit. The damned monkeys were driving her mad. Finally the driver braked and turned onto a path, then stopped. The men in the truck bed bailed out. Groper opened his door, grabbed Sage by the upper arm, and pulled her from the truck. He shoved her in front of him, pointed toward an armed gunman, and barked a word she did understand. “Go. ”
Okay. I’m okay. She silently repeated the words she’d kept running through her mind since they marched her away from Peter . This isn’t a random kidnapping. They want me for a purpose.
Noting that the rebel who took up position behind her carried her medical bag reassured her that it was the truth .
Sage swiped a hand across her sweaty brow, then swatted at an insect the size of a small bird buzzing around her . Okay. I’m okay. I’m done being afraid. They’re gonna do what they’re gonna do and I’ll deal with it.
If only the birds and the monkeys would stop their incessant clamor .
After what was probably a fifteen-minute hike, they broke from the trees onto a clearing. Sage counted seven huts. The Zaraguinas led her toward the largest of the huts, set off to one side, where the leading man knocked on the door .
A moment later the door opened. Murmured words were exchanged, then Sage was shoved inside—where the rebel leader, Ban Ntaganda, lay on a blood-soaked bed. He pointed a bloodstained finger toward her and said, “Dr. Sage. ”
“Sage? Sage?” Hands gripped her shoulders and shook her. “Sage! Holy crap, what did I do? It was a kiss. Just a kiss. I didn’t grope you or anything. Don’t scream like that.”
She emerged slowly from the flashback. Not Africa, but not home, either.
“Sage?”
Not Ntaganda. Rafferty. Colt Rafferty. I’m in Fort Worth . Those weren’t gunshots. City workers fired air guns downtown at night to chase the grackles away. The birds made a huge mess and created a health hazard. She’d read about it in the newspaper.
“Okay. I’m okay,” she said, repeating her litany aloud.
“Why did you scream? What’s wrong with you?”
“I’m okay.”
“So you’ve said a dozen times, but I’m not believing it. I think we’d better get you to a doctor and—”
“I’m a police officer. Step away from the lady, sir,” demanded a loud, forceful voice.
“Hey, I need help here,” Colt replied.
“I said step away, sir.”
Colt muttered a curse beneath his breath, then held up his hands and backed away.
“Ma’am? You screamed. Can you tell me what’s wrong? Was this man attacking you?”
She’d screamed? Sage glanced to the right to see a uniformedofficer walking toward them. “No, no. I’m fine. I’m sorry. He didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Then why the scream?”
Sage looked back toward Colt. His jaw was set, but beyond that, she couldn’t read his expression. Clearing her throat, she offered the cop a shaky smile. “It was a rat. A rat ran across my foot. It scared me. I’m sorry for the commotion.”
He continued to look suspiciously at Colt, who hadn’t moved. Sage moved forward and slipped her arm through his, adding,
Stinking bodies.
Harsh hands.
Brutal men.
The rebels’ truck threaded its way through the jungle on the rutted road. Sage sat wedged between two dirty , sweaty men in the cab. The driver never looked her way. The other man never stopped leering .
The sound of the jungle closed in on her—pants, snorts, caws, chatters, cackles, and roars. Her mouth was dry. Her heart pounded. She’d never been so frightened in her life. A brutal hand grabbed at her breast. Sage closed her eyes and prayed .
The driver barked an order too fast for her to follow with her limited command of the language, but after giving her one more squeeze, the hand released her. She released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding .
They traveled for an hour, then two. She needed to pee. Between the stink and the fear, she feared she might vomit. The damned monkeys were driving her mad. Finally the driver braked and turned onto a path, then stopped. The men in the truck bed bailed out. Groper opened his door, grabbed Sage by the upper arm, and pulled her from the truck. He shoved her in front of him, pointed toward an armed gunman, and barked a word she did understand. “Go. ”
Okay. I’m okay. She silently repeated the words she’d kept running through her mind since they marched her away from Peter . This isn’t a random kidnapping. They want me for a purpose.
Noting that the rebel who took up position behind her carried her medical bag reassured her that it was the truth .
Sage swiped a hand across her sweaty brow, then swatted at an insect the size of a small bird buzzing around her . Okay. I’m okay. I’m done being afraid. They’re gonna do what they’re gonna do and I’ll deal with it.
If only the birds and the monkeys would stop their incessant clamor .
After what was probably a fifteen-minute hike, they broke from the trees onto a clearing. Sage counted seven huts. The Zaraguinas led her toward the largest of the huts, set off to one side, where the leading man knocked on the door .
A moment later the door opened. Murmured words were exchanged, then Sage was shoved inside—where the rebel leader, Ban Ntaganda, lay on a blood-soaked bed. He pointed a bloodstained finger toward her and said, “Dr. Sage. ”
“Sage? Sage?” Hands gripped her shoulders and shook her. “Sage! Holy crap, what did I do? It was a kiss. Just a kiss. I didn’t grope you or anything. Don’t scream like that.”
She emerged slowly from the flashback. Not Africa, but not home, either.
“Sage?”
Not Ntaganda. Rafferty. Colt Rafferty. I’m in Fort Worth . Those weren’t gunshots. City workers fired air guns downtown at night to chase the grackles away. The birds made a huge mess and created a health hazard. She’d read about it in the newspaper.
“Okay. I’m okay,” she said, repeating her litany aloud.
“Why did you scream? What’s wrong with you?”
“I’m okay.”
“So you’ve said a dozen times, but I’m not believing it. I think we’d better get you to a doctor and—”
“I’m a police officer. Step away from the lady, sir,” demanded a loud, forceful voice.
“Hey, I need help here,” Colt replied.
“I said step away, sir.”
Colt muttered a curse beneath his breath, then held up his hands and backed away.
“Ma’am? You screamed. Can you tell me what’s wrong? Was this man attacking you?”
She’d screamed? Sage glanced to the right to see a uniformedofficer walking toward them. “No, no. I’m fine. I’m sorry. He didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Then why the scream?”
Sage looked back toward Colt. His jaw was set, but beyond that, she couldn’t read his expression. Clearing her throat, she offered the cop a shaky smile. “It was a rat. A rat ran across my foot. It scared me. I’m sorry for the commotion.”
He continued to look suspiciously at Colt, who hadn’t moved. Sage moved forward and slipped her arm through his, adding,
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